I want you to meet Karma. I have just met her. I went to visit the tiny babies and ended up with a Karma to feed. But she was easy. So quiet. No fighting the food – for she has yet to be scared of it and she is also natural yogi – with feet permanently in her mouth whenever the spoon wasn't. Scruffy fluffy hair like a mohican. She is a mirror image of Gita, but just so tiny. A few months old. Born without eyes, born to be given away. To grow up like Gita – isolated from a family and from the world.
I am becoming so frustrated with circumstances and with myself. I know the blind girls at Sishu Bhavan are lucky – they have food and a bed, toys to play with, a constant stream of volunteers and a happy environment. They could have been left on the street, they could be without food or care. But I am not satisfied. I am left feeling frustrated because I feel their power. They are so full of potential and I have absolutely no idea about how it is going to be realised.
I asked the Sister in charge of Sishu Bhavan if Gita could have a re evaluation to see if she really does have any other challenges apart from not having eyes... “There is no need” I was told “She is retarded” Full Stop. I asked the Sister what the future would be for Gita and her reply “I cannot think about her future. I can only think about her present.” I asked what I could do? “Prayer” was the her first answer and “find her a family” the second. Prayer to me means power of the mind – and trust me I am thinking powerfully about this one. And find a family? How? Place an add in the paper?
Unable to accept the Sisters fatalism I went to visit a blind boarding school which teaches the national curriculum but in braille. I went to see for myself what the chances of Gita being accepted were. The teacher I spoke with was adamant “we only accept normal blind children”. Again that word - 'normal'. And with the sisters convinced that Gita is a 'retard' this is not the answer which I wanted to hear.
But the blind school also confused me. The day I visited it was a holiday in respect of the schools one hundred year anniversary. In fact I still felt as if it were 1908 rather than 2008. Big empty rooms. Indeed it was a beautiful space. But devoid of life – of entertainment or of stimulus. Outside were a group of boys of eight years of age. Exploring a van. They were all crowded around it, touching and feeling the metal warmed by the afternoon sun, the dusty plastic of the bumpers, the glass of the windows, the wing mirrors. Eyes tightly closed – or open and unseeing. It was powerful to see. I felt drawn towards them, and I went. I began to speak – hoping that my English words made sense. Breaking all Indian conventions I reached my hand out to touch theirs. Walking down the path were another group of young men. Hands on shoulders – shoulders walking in a line. Again I spoke and touched. I wished I could ask their advice about Gita; I wished they could talk to her to explain to her. I wished I could tell them how without even knowing them I admired them. They walked on. I began to think – is this what I am fighting for? For Gita to live here. With no more stimulation than she already has? With only a handful of carers? And to learn brail and then what? How to support herself? How many jobs are there in India for young blind women?
I am frustrated because I want her to be able to learn the world – not only to learn to walk on her own, to learn to communicate, to wash herself, feed herself, but to be able to walk outside and to live outside of an institution; to live according to her own choices– but is this realisitic? Is this possible in this country at this time? Maybe for Jamie – but for a Woman? For Gita? For baby Karma who lies in a cot like a 'normal' baby – about to follow in the dark footsteps of four year old Gita?
And the alternative scares me – it would be as the Sister says – for her to be adopted; and it would take either a very rich Indian family or a foreign one. And this causes me to feel disappointed in myself as I believe in indigenous adoption – that the adoption of a child should be with as limited trauma as possible – that the child be given the opportunity to learn their native language, to learn their culture and be close to what they are familiar with. But in Gita's case this would not be enough. She needs specialised care in order to become independent and once she is, she needs the opportunities to live what my 'Western' mind believes to be a full Life.
Feeling very on my own about Gita I have contacted as many organisation working with blind children that I could find. Only the ones outside of India replied and most of these told me that they only worked inside their respective 'developed' countries. The exception was one: The Blind Children's Fund. My new friend at the BFC has within only a few exchanges of emails given me so much support. Thank you. She has reassured me that Gita's development is indeed 'normal' for a child in her circumstances. She is sending me a box of information of how work with blind children and help them to achieve their potential. She has also sent me a List. It is a List of adoption agencies in America and in the UK which specialises in looking for families for blind children. And now what? I try and 'sell' Gita – try and show how amazing she is? How she deserves a family? And what of the new parents? Do they even exist? And if they are there am I stealing them from another orphan? Is this the best for Gita? I guess I am going to try. It would be easy to give up after only one week of trying. Or would it? Because now I feel that this is my part of our friendship. She has let me know her. She has shown me her energy. I guess I now have a responsibility which I can't really turn away from by tricking myself by saying that this is not my responsibility. So now I will try: “New parents wanted for an amazing little girl – currently living in an orphanage in India – without eyes - and for the moment 'retarded'.”
Any help welcome.
I am becoming so frustrated with circumstances and with myself. I know the blind girls at Sishu Bhavan are lucky – they have food and a bed, toys to play with, a constant stream of volunteers and a happy environment. They could have been left on the street, they could be without food or care. But I am not satisfied. I am left feeling frustrated because I feel their power. They are so full of potential and I have absolutely no idea about how it is going to be realised.
I asked the Sister in charge of Sishu Bhavan if Gita could have a re evaluation to see if she really does have any other challenges apart from not having eyes... “There is no need” I was told “She is retarded” Full Stop. I asked the Sister what the future would be for Gita and her reply “I cannot think about her future. I can only think about her present.” I asked what I could do? “Prayer” was the her first answer and “find her a family” the second. Prayer to me means power of the mind – and trust me I am thinking powerfully about this one. And find a family? How? Place an add in the paper?
Unable to accept the Sisters fatalism I went to visit a blind boarding school which teaches the national curriculum but in braille. I went to see for myself what the chances of Gita being accepted were. The teacher I spoke with was adamant “we only accept normal blind children”. Again that word - 'normal'. And with the sisters convinced that Gita is a 'retard' this is not the answer which I wanted to hear.
But the blind school also confused me. The day I visited it was a holiday in respect of the schools one hundred year anniversary. In fact I still felt as if it were 1908 rather than 2008. Big empty rooms. Indeed it was a beautiful space. But devoid of life – of entertainment or of stimulus. Outside were a group of boys of eight years of age. Exploring a van. They were all crowded around it, touching and feeling the metal warmed by the afternoon sun, the dusty plastic of the bumpers, the glass of the windows, the wing mirrors. Eyes tightly closed – or open and unseeing. It was powerful to see. I felt drawn towards them, and I went. I began to speak – hoping that my English words made sense. Breaking all Indian conventions I reached my hand out to touch theirs. Walking down the path were another group of young men. Hands on shoulders – shoulders walking in a line. Again I spoke and touched. I wished I could ask their advice about Gita; I wished they could talk to her to explain to her. I wished I could tell them how without even knowing them I admired them. They walked on. I began to think – is this what I am fighting for? For Gita to live here. With no more stimulation than she already has? With only a handful of carers? And to learn brail and then what? How to support herself? How many jobs are there in India for young blind women?
I am frustrated because I want her to be able to learn the world – not only to learn to walk on her own, to learn to communicate, to wash herself, feed herself, but to be able to walk outside and to live outside of an institution; to live according to her own choices– but is this realisitic? Is this possible in this country at this time? Maybe for Jamie – but for a Woman? For Gita? For baby Karma who lies in a cot like a 'normal' baby – about to follow in the dark footsteps of four year old Gita?
And the alternative scares me – it would be as the Sister says – for her to be adopted; and it would take either a very rich Indian family or a foreign one. And this causes me to feel disappointed in myself as I believe in indigenous adoption – that the adoption of a child should be with as limited trauma as possible – that the child be given the opportunity to learn their native language, to learn their culture and be close to what they are familiar with. But in Gita's case this would not be enough. She needs specialised care in order to become independent and once she is, she needs the opportunities to live what my 'Western' mind believes to be a full Life.
Feeling very on my own about Gita I have contacted as many organisation working with blind children that I could find. Only the ones outside of India replied and most of these told me that they only worked inside their respective 'developed' countries. The exception was one: The Blind Children's Fund. My new friend at the BFC has within only a few exchanges of emails given me so much support. Thank you. She has reassured me that Gita's development is indeed 'normal' for a child in her circumstances. She is sending me a box of information of how work with blind children and help them to achieve their potential. She has also sent me a List. It is a List of adoption agencies in America and in the UK which specialises in looking for families for blind children. And now what? I try and 'sell' Gita – try and show how amazing she is? How she deserves a family? And what of the new parents? Do they even exist? And if they are there am I stealing them from another orphan? Is this the best for Gita? I guess I am going to try. It would be easy to give up after only one week of trying. Or would it? Because now I feel that this is my part of our friendship. She has let me know her. She has shown me her energy. I guess I now have a responsibility which I can't really turn away from by tricking myself by saying that this is not my responsibility. So now I will try: “New parents wanted for an amazing little girl – currently living in an orphanage in India – without eyes - and for the moment 'retarded'.”
Any help welcome.
Blind Childrens Fund
No comments:
Post a Comment